


Mechanically Minded

by SuchAFangirl



Category: Queer as Folk (US)
Genre: Canon, Season/Series 01, Short
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-10-08
Updated: 2008-10-08
Packaged: 2018-12-27 14:56:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,166
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12083427
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SuchAFangirl/pseuds/SuchAFangirl
Summary: A look at the beginning of Brian & Justin's relationship from an unusual point of view.





	Mechanically Minded

  


* * *

I love the city! Though it hasn't been my home for many years now, I still love the hustle and bustle, the traffic and parking chaos, and the smell of petrol and exhaust fumes blowing straight into my face as I follow the streams of traffic. As Shelley takes an unexpected right to cross 16th Street Bridge, I feel a strong sense of nostalgia. She's never taken me here before, but I know where we're headed. This was my territory once. Long ago, in a life far removed from the suburbs where I now reside. She turns left onto Liberty and finds a parking space. My temperature rises. Babylon, Woody's, The Diner. I'm Back!  
  
~*~  
  
I knew from the moment we met that we were made for each other, Brian and I. He loves excitement, he's not afraid to take risks and he lives life in the fast lane. He really needed someone like me in his life to look out for him. He trusted me to make sure that he always got home safely, no matter how much he'd had to drink, or what drug he'd sourced for the weekend's release. Because as sure as he was of his own abilities, he'd have been a road toll statistic if it weren't for me.  
  
He cared for me, making sure all my needs were met, no expense spared. He loved me every bit as much as I loved him. I thought we'd be together forever, but just when you think your life is a smooth run down an open highway, something… well, someone… comes along and sets your whole world into a tailspin.  
  
I'm Wrangler, by the way. Jeep Wrangler. But when I lived in this part of town, I was known as The Jeep, and I was Brian Kinney's pride and joy.  
  
I remember that fateful night so well. It started like any other - a trip to Woody's, moving on to Babylon, and then patiently waiting for Brian to decide the night was over before we'd head back to the loft, or the diner, depending on the night's catch (or lack there of). We were just heading home, an early night for a change, when _he_ came along. And nothing was ever the same again.  
  
Right from the start I could tell he was different. Many men had taken that seat before, and generally they were horny as hell; the way they adjust themselves twice a minute is a dead give away. But that kid was nervous. Very Nervous. The tension in his body was like nothing I had felt before. He wouldn't conform to the soft contours of my leather upholstery. Every muscle in his body fought my efforts to help him relax. He hid it well though, his voice holding strong as he answered Brian's innuendo-laced small talk with bravado. He didn't fool me. I don't think he was fooling Brian, either.  
  
As he got out and followed Brian to the loft, I was sure that the kid had bitten off more than he could chew. I figured he'd be out again long before his warmth had left my seat. As it turned out, I was right, but not in the way I thought. Both of them returned far too soon and we raced to Mikey's without so much as an explanation. Brian's fingers gripped me in a most unusual way. There was tension, excitement and nervousness, a combination I had never felt in Brian before. I'll never forget Mikey's face when we pulled up outside of his building and he saw the kid sitting in _his_ seat. Mikey had been relegated to the back seat, much to his disgust.  
  
I had no idea where we were all headed until we turned onto the well-practiced route. Everything became clear; Lindsay had had the baby! I was relieved. No need for Plan B, which meant I was off the hook. I can't tell you how annoying those Plan B practice runs to the hospital were. Different routes for different traffic conditions, each practiced and timed several times over. Coping with Mel the control freak was bad enough, but I didn't really want to have to do it with a laboring lesbian screaming directions at me too. I'm not sure Brian was up to that either. I think he was still trying to come to terms with being a father.  
  
That probably explains the state Brian was in when he returned. Definitely unfit to drive, but in hindsight, perhaps he'd have been better than Mikey, who took the wheel instead. The drive home from the hospital was erratic to say the least, and I really had my work cut out for me. Mikey barely kept his eyes on the road, watching Brian and the kid in the rear view mirror far too intently. I was on to him! Jealousy ran through those veins, thicker than the blood that sustained him. His grip on the wheel tightened as Brian lowered himself to give the young man a blow job. I tried my best to counter Mikey's manic swerving, unfortunately my efforts were to no avail. Brian Kinney _giving_ a blow job. I missed the show of a lifetime. Thanks a-fucking-lot Mikey!  
  
And thanks a-fucking-lot, too, for parking me in the street like a sitting duck. Brian would never have done that to me. Humiliation is all I can call it. Labeled like a piece of junk, all dignity lost. I would have blown a gasket or two if it weren't for Brian and the kid. It didn't bother them, so I didn't let it bother me. Despite his words though, Brian still had me in at the repair shop that day. I'm not sure if that was to restore my dignity or his.  
  
When we dropped the kid off at school that morning, I didn't think I'd see him ever again. Brian had said goodbye in his usual finite manner, and that had always been enough to keep the others away. But this kid obviously didn't take no for an answer. There he was, back on Liberty Ave that very same night, searching for Brian. He patted my hood happily as he passed by me and headed into Woody's. Perhaps Brian should have had me painted red if he wanted to give that one the slip. But it seemed that no sooner had the kid gone in, Brian came out. He was in a right state too, pulling a sharp U-turn out onto Liberty Ave, leaving a good streak of rubber in our wake.  
  
You can imagine how my wheels were thrown into a spin when the kid showed up at the loft a few hours later. His visit was short-lived though, and even from my position in the dark side-alley, I could see he was upset. Brian wasn't known for being gentle with people's feelings, but boil my radiator… if Brian didn't come down and talk to the boy! I couldn't see what was going on, but I caught a few words here and there, mostly from the kid, because he was too emotional to lower his voice. I heard the car door slam and he was gone, but I knew it wasn't over. I could see it in Brian's reaction. There was something in his expression. Sadness? Longing? I'm not quite sure what. But something that boy said had actually found its mark.  
  
It was no surprise to me that I was driving the two of them home from Babylon a week later. And that's when I found out his name. Justin. The only one who's name I ever learned, and probably the only one who's name Brian ever remembered.  
  
Justin seemed to turn up fairly regularly after that. Like the time I'd just brought Brian home from Babylon with some arrogant asshole (honestly, it's clear Brian only thinks with his dick sometimes). I was delighted to see Justin run up the pavement moments later, and rush into Brian's building. I was even more ecstatic to see the afore mentioned asshole leave the building a soon after, dejected and angry. Justin stayed the night again. He always seemed to stay the night. So what, you might say, but believe me, this didn't happen often with Brian.  
  
Nothing prepared me though for the day Brian drove me to the Gay and Lesbian Center. I mean, WHAT THE FUCK was that about! Brian would never have gone to that place voluntarily. Not surprisingly, Justin was the reason for that rare visit. Actually, we went there twice that day, returning after the close of the exhibition to pick up some artwork. I never did see what he bought, but I'd bet my oil filter that Justin Taylor had some connection to it.  
  
Brian was changing, particularly when Justin was around. And Justin was certainly around a lot. Brian seemed to be looking out for him, and at the same time, taking better care of himself. The number of late-night benders decreased, he seemed happier to go home early with Justin than to party 'til dawn like before. My role as caretaker was slowly diminishing.  
  
I still remember the last time I saw them together. They'd met up at Woody's, and I was taking them back to the loft. Justin had just gotten a piercing, and was overly pleased with himself. He was buoyant; annoyingly (and adorably) so and Brian was playful, taking delight in tweaking Justin's over-sensitive nipple like it was his new favorite sport. Brian would dismiss this as nonsense, but it was clear to me that they were becoming totally wrapped up in each other, and increasingly oblivious to the world around them. I knew my place, I kept my eyes on the road, and my mind on the task at hand; getting them home so they could fuck.  
  
So many times I'd protected Brian, and delivered him home safe, but no amount of attention or care could have prevented the events of the following day. All control was taken out of Brian's hands, and mine. We didn't see it coming… I mean, who does? It's not like you come across a homicidal maniac in a luxury sedan every day. The idiot rammed us with such force and anger, we could only reel in the shock of it. I have no idea who the fuck it was, or why the fuck he did it. It might have been that stupid trick who nearly dented me with his fist as we left Babylon's car park, but somehow I doubt it. Lord knows Brian had made some enemies over the years, it could have been any one of them. I never thought someone would actually try to kill him though.  
  
We parted ways that night; me to the workshop, Brian to the ER, and I never saw him again. They took all of his things from me, fixed me up as best they could and sold me off to the highest bidder. That's life as a company car I guess. I know it wasn't personal, it's just the nature of business. Still, it hurt. I wish I had had the chance to say goodbye, and I wonder all the time what life brought Brian, and if Justin was a part of it. Closure. I would have liked closure.  
  
~*~  
  
I keep a close eye on the people passing by. Soon Shelley will be back to get me, and this trip down memory lane will be over. It would be nice to see him again before we go, but he was always talking about getting out of this town, and as time ticks on, I begin to doubt if he even lives here now.  
  
Fingertips brush softly across my rear fender, sending a shock through my wiring. I'd know that touch anywhere, even though too many years have passed. I relish the sound of Prada on the sidewalk 'til I catch sight of him in my wing mirror. He looks every bit as good as he did back then, and I'm suddenly very aware of my faded paintwork. I'd have liked to look my best for him. He pulls someone to his side, and I see now that it's him. Justin. "Hello, old friend." he says, as he tenderly touches me. They smile knowing at me, and at each other. I guess I always knew those two were meant to be, the signs were there right from the start. It was clear that Brian needed Justin more than he ever needed me. Maybe things worked out for the best after all.  
  
The two of them walk away together, as wrapped in each other now as they were the night I last drove them home. I keep watch until they disappear into the colorful crowds that grace the pavement of Liberty Ave. Eight years later, I finally get to say goodbye. I don't need to wonder any more, at last I have closure. I think this qualifies as happily ever after.

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the "Through the eyes of..." challenge at neverenough_bj on Livejournal


End file.
